


A Bird's Nest

by Souliebird



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drabble Collection, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Other, Prompt Fill, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-07 13:44:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souliebird/pseuds/Souliebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of mostly Jason and Tim centric drabbles and prompt fills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Music Shuffle Prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The premise of these prompts are me shuffling through my music, skipping however many songs I am prompted to, and then writing a drabble based on what song I land on. I didn't include the usernames of those who prompted me because it was just numbers. Future prompt fills will include usernames.

  
**Seven:** “You Are Not Alone (Orchestra Version)” Nobuo Uematsu / Final Fantasy IX

Jason could not find the will to get up; he barely had the will to keep breathing and that was only because he refused to die like this. He was not going to die in a warehouse full of his enemies, with not a single person he liked in sight and feeling utterly alone. He just wasn't sure how exactly he was going to make it out of this mess yet. 

Every time he took a weak breath, it felt like fire was pouring down his throat and Jason was pretty sure he could feel fluid starting to build up in his lungs. One of his numerous broken ribs must has punctured something. He could not even move to check because he was almost ninety percent sure his left elbow was shattered and he was laying awkwardly against a wall on his right arm, trying to keep himself propped up.

There was a 'clink clink' of metal on concrete and Jason forced his non-swollen eye open. He was proud to say he did not visibly react to the sight of the Joker walking towards him, dragging a crowbar along, but his almost non-existent heartrate skyrocketed. 

As the Joker raised the crowbar, every window in the warehouse exploded inward in a sea of black, yellow, blue, red, and purple. Batman's boot connected squarely with the Joker's chest and sent the deranged clown flying into a wall. 

Jason watched as his family descended into the crowd of Rogues. Nightwing alternated with Robin on beating Bane into the ground, while Batgirl made quick work of Freeze, and Black Bat seemingly took care of anyone she came in contact with. 

Jason's vision turned one specific colour as Red Robin appeared in front of him, leaning down and holding out a hand. Jason stared at the man, who gave a sort of soft smile that Jason would have never expected to be shown when Tim had his cowl on. Jason could feel his own grin forming and pushed past the pain to reach up and grab Red Robin's hand. Red Robin squeezed his fingers before hauling Jason into standing.

Maybe he did have some fight in him, still. 

  
**Nineteen:** “Work” Jimmy Eat World

“You're not serious, are you?” Tim asked, laughing a bit as he finished clasping his harness across his chest. Jason scowled from his reclined position on his bed.

“When am I ever not?” 

Tim's fingers froze in their movements for the briefest of seconds and Jason knew he had not been prepared for that answer. The older man snatched his cigarettes off the bedside table and lit one, already knowing what his lover's answer would be. He knew it when he had had a moment of weakness and asked the damned question. “I'm not going to take a vacation with you, Jason.” 

An icy, sick, and slick feeling wrapped itself around Jason's heart and squeezed. They both knew Jason had not asked Tim to leave Gotham with him on vacation. 

“Your loss. I'll just enjoy the shores of Bora Bora by myself, then.” 

Tim flipped up his cowl and looked at Jason through the eyes of Red Robin. “I'll send you the lab results before you leave.” 

“Whatever.” Jason flopped back into his pillows, taking a long drag as he did. He heard the window open, then close. Jason grabbed something solid from his table and threw it hard against the exit Tim had used, getting a small satisfaction as the glass shattered. “Fuck Bora Bora.”

  
**Fifteen** : “Bubbly” Colbie Caillat

Spring, despite the fact he had some horrible allergies, was Tim's favourite time of year. The rain was always light and warm, and sometimes they had sunshowers. It was a contrast to every other season, where the rain was hard, cold, and brought dark clouds over Gotham. 

He could hear the soft 'plip plop' against his window and it brought a smile to Tim's lips as he started to wake up. He wanted to enjoy the gentle noise as long as he could; the city he lived in was never described as gentle. After a long while, Tim decided he should figure out where exactly he had fallen asleep in his apartment and slowly opened his eyes. 

He was on his couch and a blanket was draped over him. Tim touched the soft fabric curiously as he sat up; he didn't remember moving it from his bed. It wasn't something he would do. As long as he wasn't below freezing, he could sleep without a blanket. He was pretty sure it had been in the low sixties the night before. 

Something moved in Tim's peripheral vision and he turned to look over the back of the couch. 

Jason was sitting in Tim's kitchen window sill wearing just a pair of sweatpants, leaning against the frame. He was half in the apartment, and half on the fire escape, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he read a paper back. There was a mug by his foot that Tim was pretty sure held long cold coffee. There was a sunbeam going across his lap and Tim could see the drizzle of rain, which didn't seem to be bothering Jason. 

Tim's heart fluttered and his smile softened. He leaned an arm against the back of the couch and rested his chin on it, getting comfortable to watch his love truly relax for a few moments before he would ruin the moment with a sarcastic comment. 

  
**Thirteen** : “Somewhere Only We Know” - Keane

The metal coffin they were in creaked under the pressure of the water surrounding it and Jason tightened his grip on Tim. “It is okay, Babybird. We are going to get out of this just fine.” He could hear the doubt in his voice and knew Tim heard it as well. 

The man in his arms gave a wet cough and Jason couldn't help but push Tim's bangs away from his forehead. His fever was getting worse. Jason hugged Tim closer, swearing to himself that if they survived being locked in a banged up shipping container at the bottom of Gotham Harbor, he was going to murder the people who had put them there. Slowly and with great pleasure. 

“Well at least we are more likely to drown to death from the walls caving in than we are to suffocate. We have plenty of air. This container is pretty big.” Tim mumbled against Jason's neck, attempting to lighten the mood.

“We aren't going to die.”

“You could make it to the surface, Jay...Even if we are at the deepest part of the harb-”

“I'm not leaving you and we are not going to die.” Jason said with a bit more force. “And if you say that again, having been shot will be the least of your problems. B will be here any minute. Dickiebird's mother hen senses are probably going crazy right now and that is what is probably taking them so long.” Tim made a humming noise to show he did not agree with Jason and leaned himself more into the man's hold. Jason jostled him slightly. “You have to stay awake, Tim.”

“Mmmm, one time you want me to not sleep.” But Tim opened his eyes again. They sat for a few minutes, listening to the metal creak angrily around them. “Jason....?” 

“Mhm?”

“I don't want to die here.” Jason looked down at his friend, his brother, his lover, his everything and swallowed thickly. Tim was as pale as Jason ever thought a human could get and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Jason dug his fingers into Tim's hair and cradled him.

“I won't let you die here.” 

“Jay..” Tim's voice sounded as weak as he looked.

“Do you remember that cafe we went to in Paris? The one we went to after your stupid ass followed me on that weapons trade bust?” Tim stirred in Jason's arms and peered up at him, a look of unspoken gratitude in his bright, wet, eyes.

“The one with the scones...?” 

“Yeah, the one with the scones. The scones and that really good mint tea and that old battered chess set.” 

“I still can't believe you pocketed the black king.” Tim chuckled and curled more into Jason's arms. Jason began to rock Tim back and forth, trying to soothe them both.

“I didn't mean to. We had to make a quick get away...Let's go back there, yeah? When we get out of here. Let's go back there and we can have some scones and I promise I'll return the piece.” Tim nodded against Jason, but it barely counted as a movement.

“Okay...okay....we can...do that...” 

  
**Seven:** “You Set Me Free” Michelle Branch

“So, what do you think?” Dick said with a spin, sending his cape flapping around behind him. 

“I cannot believe that still fits you.” Bruce crossed his arms over his chest, frowning at the sight of Dick in his old Robin costume. It brought up too many feelings in him. “Or that you are going out in it. You have your own costume. Your own name.”

Dick paused in his spinning and put his hands on his hips. “You are the one you said role reversal would help Damian. And this IS my costume and you should remember Robin was MY name, not yours.” Dick was no longer bitter about the fact his childhood nickname had been turned into a mantle, but he did need to remind Bruce from time to time that the name meant more to Dick than to anyone else. 

“This is not what I meant.” Dick dropped his arms, going to Bruce with a grin.

“Don't get jealous, Bruce, you're the only Batman for me. You gave this Robin his wings.” 

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Stop trying to be romantic and go teach Damian a lesson about obeying orders.” Dick gave a two finger salute and turned to go find the temporary Batman. “And for the love of God, do not let Jason see you!”

  
**Twenty** : “Animal I have Become” Three Days Grace

“Jason. That is enough.” A calm and controlled voice came from behind him. Jason stopped his fist from slamming into the face under him and looked back at Red Robin. He had forgotten his partner was even in the room.

“That is enough.” Red repeated with a little more emphasis. Jason looked back down to the thing under him; the child rapist, murder, drug peddling- “Jason.” 

“Trafficking kids through my neighborhood, Tim. Kids.” Red Robin came forward and placed a gentle hand on Jason's shoulder and squeezed.

“And we stopped him. And we are going to send him to Blackgate and litter the Yard with his file. Killing him now would be merciful of you.” Hurting children put someone on the lowest rungs of prison society; and in Gotham that went tenfold. Jason took a deep breath, not having realized before now that he had been shaking in rage, and stood up. Red Robin smiled at him from behind his cowl and Jason gave a small nod of thanks. 

Bruce would have gotten on his case about his excessive use of force and Dick would have brought Jason's rage onto himself rather than let Jason hurt the dirtbag he was after. Then there was Tim, beautiful and lean Tim, who could have stopped Jason before the man threw the first punch with a single word, but hadn't. Tim, who had sat back and let Jason let out his anger, because Tim understood Jason could not ever fully conform to the Bat Family standards. Tim, who never told Jason to calm down, but redirected the emotions into something more fulfilling than killing whatever had made Jason angry. 

Jason watched as Red Robin zip tied the man Jason had nearly beaten to death. This was why he was the only member of the Family Jason would willingly work with; Tim never tried to control Jason, and they both knew that because of that, Tim had full control over Jason. 

  
**Eighteen** : “This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race” Fall Out Boy

“This is the most horrifying thing I have ever seen in my life.” Jason said as he leaned over the hand rails to watch grown men scream and throw their hands in the air, all trying to outbid each other. 

“I think it is absolutely hilarious any of them think they will win,” Tim replied, his back to the entire scene, his attention instead focus on untangling a knot that had formed in the wires of his headphones.

“What? Who do you think is going to win the auction, then?” 

“Oh, I am. The man in the blue turban works for me.” Jason spotted the man in the crowd, who had just raised the bid to fifty million. 

“You are going to win the auction?” Jason said in slight disbelief.

“Of course.” Tim made a pleased noise as he straightened out the wires before promptly shoving them back into his pocket, where they would no doubt become knotted again. 

“Tim?” 

“Mhm?” Tim turned to look up at the action below, now that he was not distracted.

“You're the object of the auction.” Jason pointed the stage, where Ra's was standing while one of his lackies acted as the auctioneer. Tim pouted. 

“You make it sound like I'm sort of high end whore.” Jason raised a brow at his friend and it made Tim pout more. “Oh please, you know very well if anyone tried anything like that they'd be killed five ways to Sunday before I even got to them and that would just be from you.” Jason gave Tim a dazzling grin.

“You are just too pretty to corrupt.” Tim snorted in laughter and shook his head. “No, seriously, why are you letting Ra's try to pimp you?” Jason asked, keeping to the high end whore analogy. Tim put a hand to his chest in mock hurt.

“You are giving the man far to much credit. I am my own pimp. Who do you think came up with this entire charade? Word gets out my services are for hire, which they already are but that isn't the point, this little auction gets people interested, I drive up the price of the auction until no one will outbid me thinking I am not worth that, I do a job I was already going to do in the first place under the pseudonym of Mister Blue Turban and impress the criminal underworld, again, and then we do another auction down the line, where people will be willing to pay triple what Mister Blue Turban supposedly paid.” 

“So it's about the money?” Tim reached out and pat Jason's face like he was a toddler who had said the most adorable thing.

“I could care less about the money. It's all about the fact Ra's doesn't know Mister Blue Turban works for me. Look how angry he is that someone just bid a hundred million to have me for a night.” Tim wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Jason, who looked immediately to the forementioned man. 

“Holy shit, he is about to pop a vein. What did he do to deserve this?” 

“Nothing, I just haven't pissed him off in a while. This is killing two birds with one stone.”


	2. Music Shuffle Prompt II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the music shuffle prompt from Tumblr.

  
**Ten** : “Overture/All The Jazz” Chicago

“How did you manage to wrangle me into going in to this? You drugged me, didn't you? I don't remember how I got here. Help, I need an adult.” Tim grabbed Jason's arm and yanked him back into the chair before he could draw attention to himself. 

“Shut up and behave. You owe me from the Peters case.” Jason crossed his arms and scowled at Tim. 

“You can not seriously be calling that in for this.” Tim leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, giving Jason a pointed look as he did. “Oh come on, Tim. This isn't fair. This is torture.” 

“I let you shoot me in the knee, Jason.” Tim's mouth did not move as he spoke. He gave a small wave to someone at another table and now had the famous Wayne Smile across his lips. 

“I will shoot myself in the knee to get out of this.” A waiter arrived at the table and gave Jason a somewhat sympathetic look as he left the two gin cocktails Tim had ordered earlier. Jason downed both of them before Tim could even reach for one. 

“And I will watch as you bleed out because we are staying here until the show is over. It is for charity, Jason, and it is my contract I have to go to one of these a year and if I have to suffer, you do, too.”

“Why me?” Jason moaned as he gave in, slumping his chest across the table and stretching out his arms. Tim gave him an annoyed look, but Jason was at this stupid event and in a suit, so he would allow the man to act somewhat like a child. 

The lights around the show room lowered as the curtains of the stage slowly parted. The band started playing an upbeat jazzy tune with a heavy amount of trumpet. As a line of children in sparkly outfits began to dance across the stage, Tim leaned over to whisper into Jason's ear.

“Because I can't blow Dick during the intermission.” 

  
**Eight** : “Get Down (You're The One For Me)” Backstreet Boys

Jason snatched the remote from Dick's hands and pressed pause. The older man started to protest, but Jason shoved his hand in Dick's face, shutting him up. “What did you just say?” Jason asked, staring at Tim in shock.

“I..what? What do you mean?” 

“Whatever it was, I want to thank Drake for finally making you two turn off this horrible excuse of music.” Damian mumbled from the couch. Every time he had tried to leave the room, his two oldest siblings would chase him down and drag him back. 

“You are too young to appreciate the genius that is the Backstreet Boys, so shut up and enjoy our brotherly bonding, Damian.” Dick said from behind Jason's hand. 

“What did you say, Tim?” Jason had not taken his eyes off of Tim and it was starting to freak him out. 

“The lyrics to the song, just like you two.” Jason shook his head.

“No, no, what exactly did you say.” Tim narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, then started to bob his head a little, picturing the music in his mind.

“You're the one for me, you're my ex to see, you're the one I need.” Jason and Dick collapsed into laughter and Tim glared at both of them. “What?” 

“Oh my god, Tim, the lyric is 'you're my ecstasy!' Ex to see? Where the hell did you come up with that?!” Tim's ears went red.

“The song came out when I was kid! I'm sorry my mind went to something more innocent than drugs! Unlike the both of you, I do not listen to this kind of stuff on a regular basis!” His explanation caused the two men to laugh harder. Tim huffed and stormed from the room, clearly annoyed at being made fun of.

“Drake is right. I thought this was a child's song. Why would they be talking about drug use?” 

  
**Twenty Five** : “The Hazards Of Love 3 (Revenge!)” The Decemberist

Bruce stumbled through the parking structure, digging through his pockets for his keys. Crane was supposed to be in Arkham, how the hell had he gotten out and to a society function without anyone noticing? Bruce cursed himself for not having found a way to carry samples of everything he kept in his utility belt on him at all time. He would have to create his own clothing line to have as much pocket space as he needed without it looking bulky or suspicious. At least he kept emergency supplies stocked inside of his cars. 

The keys slipped from Bruce's hands and clattered on the asphalt. He bent to pick them up, but a hand that was caked in mud came out of no where and covered the keys.

“Let me get those for you, Bruce.” Bruce's head jerked up and he stared at Jason. Jason grinned at him; he was wearing a dirty black suit, with clumps of dirt and grass caught in his button holes, and there was a gash on his forehead that had smeared dry blood around it. His skin was pale where it wasn't bruised and dark circles were around his eyes. “What's wrong, Brucie, it looks like you've seen a ghost.”

“Are you alright, Father?” 

Bruce whirled around. Damian was standing behind him, hands in the pockets of his own black suit. His white button up was soaked with blood from the hole in his chest. Damian titled his head to one side, a look of concern on his face as crimson liquid began to drip from the corners of his mouth. 

Bruce took a few steps back, trying to get away from what he was seeing. He knew it wasn't real. It wasn't real. This was all a hallucination caused by fear gas; he had to remember that. He needed to get to his car.

“I think he should lie down. What do you think, Dick?” Tim stepped from the shadows, holding his arms over his stomach to keep his innards from falling out as he moved closer to Bruce. Something slipped from his hold and hit the ground with a wet 'plop!' “Oh, I think that was important...”

“Just lay down, Bruce. We'll take good care of you.” Bruce turned his head to see Dick smiling brightly behind him with blue lips, completely drenched in water, with kelp tangled around his tie. Cassandra appeared beside him and reached out to pluck the kelp from Dick's suit, dropping it on the ground. There was a bruise around her neck, and Bruce could see bones poking out of her legs from behind her dress. Bruce backed away from them until his back hit something solid; a wall.

“Just like you take good care of us.” 

His children began to move closer to him and Bruce could see nothing else besides them and shadows. 

“You take such good care of us, Bruce.” Jason and Tim said together. 

“Don't be scared, Father.” Damian smiled and it looked so wrong. 

“We won't let anything happen to you.” Cassandra swayed as she came to a stop beside Bruce. They were surrounding him. Bruce couldn't breath. He tried to back away even more, but he couldn’t move, and gasped for air as five pale hands reached for him.

“Isn't that what you said to us?” 

  
**Author's Choice** : “Wrecking Ball” Miley Cyrus

Tim never thought he'd be leaving Gotham like this. He had come to this rooftop meeting with hope of trying to salvage what was left of his relationship with his family, but seeing Dick standing in front of him, Tim knew there had never been any hope. All hope was lost the moment Dick chose Damian to be his Robin. 

A cold breeze skated over the roof, causing Dick's cape to billow out to one side. Tim scowled at the sight; Dick was supposed to have come as Dick...not as Batman. Tim shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and waited until the wind passed before talking. 

“The suit looks good on you.” His voice was cool and distant. Dick's lips quirked into a smile. “Batman doesn't smile.”

“Bruce didn't smile. It doesn't mean I don't have to.” Tim's jaw clenched and he forced down any emotion he was feeling. 

“Doesn't.”

“Doesn't what?”

“Bruce doesn't smile.” The muscles around Dick's mouth tightened and Tim was glad he could not see the man's eyes. There would be too much concern and Tim wasn't sure he could handle that at the moment; not after deciding he was leaving Gotham after this talk.

“Tim...” Tim shook his head and he knew Dick knew it would be pointless to try and convince him, again, that Bruce was dead. Tim wasn't sure what was worse; the fact that Dick did not believe him or the fact Dick kept looking at him with so much pity in those wonderful blue eyes. The look had ripped Tim's heart out because Tim knew Dick thought he had finally lost his mind in grief. But he hadn't, and nothing he could say could convince Dick of it, and it hurt so much. Dick meant everything to Tim; Dick was Tim's world. He was more than Tim's brother; he was Tim's friend, his leader, his confidant, he was Tim's boyhood crush, and that crush had developed into pure love. Tim had liked Ariana and Stephanie, but he loved Dick.

Dick had always helped Tim through the pain of losing everyone around him. Dick had always reminded Tim that no matter what, he wasn't alone as he felt..except for now. Dick had always brought a small bright spot into a world that was slowly giving into shadows, and now that light was gone. 

Tim clenched his fists in his pockets and forced himself to smile. “It's fine, Dick. I need to go, now.” He wondered if Dick had thought if they were going to actually talk when he had agreed to meet. Tim turned to head back to his apartment when he saw Dick's shadow take a step forward.

“Tim, wait,-” 

Tim looked back over his shoulder, still smiling. “I'll come by the Manor tomorrow. We can talk then.” Dick nodded and Tim wished he would remove the cowl, just so he could see Dick's eyes once more. “I love you, Dick.” 

Dick canted his head to one side, like an overgrown puppy, which was an odd look on Batman. “I love you, too, Tim.” Tim's heart panged because Dick meant he loved Tim like a brother. He had never, would never, love Tim like Tim loved him. 

Tim gave a small nod and dropped off the roof to the fire escape below. He needed to find Bruce.

Bruce would bring some light back to his world, though it would not be the same as Dick's. 

But it would be something, and that was the hope Tim clung to. 

  
**Fifteen** : “If You Wanna I Might” - Hellogoodbye.

Tim didn't glance up from his typing when Jason came into the library. He wasn't quite used to Jason showing up randomly at the Manor, though it was becoming more and more common since the man had stopped trying to kill him every time they encountered each other. Jason and Bruce still ended up in shouting matches more often than not and sometimes Jason got a little violent, but it was like he was trying to reconnect with his family and that made Tim happy. 

Tim had never gotten the chance to meet Jason before he had died, and when Jason had come back, well...there was no time for small talk between punches. Tim found he liked being around Jason; they had a similar sense of humor and level of snark and they, surprisingly enough, could hang outwithout wanting to strangle each other. 

“Whatcha doing?” Jason asked as he leaned over the back on the couch to try and read Tim's screen. The younger man quickly hit the save shortcut on his keyboard, in case Jason tried to shut his laptop. 

“I'm writing a literary analysis for one of my classes.” 

“Oh, yeah, you do that whole college thing.” 

“Mhm.” Jason hopped over the back of the couch and sat himself beside Tim. 

“Literary analysis of what?” Jason sounded genuinely curious and Tim remembered that the man rather enjoyed reading. Tim enjoyed reading, but Jason went through more books in a week than Tim did in a year. 

“'The Lottery',” He nodded towards an anthology of short stories sitting on the table in front of him. 

“Huh. Never got the chance to read it.” Tim could see Jason shift out of the corner of his eye and sighed. 

“It starts on page fifty-six.” Jason snatched the book up and flopped back onto the couch. He stuffed a throw pillow behind his head and stretched himself out; one of his legs dangled off the couch, while the other had Jason's foot pressed against Tim's side. Tim rolled his eyes and went back to typing. 

It was moments like this that made Tim question what his relationship was with Jason. No matter how he tried, Tim could not think of Jason as his brother like he did with Dick or Damian. Jason was the Robin that Tim had crawled through storm drains to get a ideal picture of; he had pretty much hero worshiped Jason and maybe that had never gone away. Sometimes in the heat battle, he could still catch himself watching Jason fight; he threw himself fully into everything without any fear and it could be thrilling to watch. Tim even found his eyes lingering on Jason outside of his costume as well; he could not help it, the man was rather handsome.

Tim knew he was attracted to Jason on some level and that is what made it hard to think of him as a brother. It did not help that Jason's comments and actions always seemed to have a flirtatious undertone to them. Tim was good at reading people, but he could never tell if Jason was being serious or not. Tim doubted Jason would ever flirt with him; he wasn't even sure if Jason was attracted to men, and if he was, why would he ever like Tim like that?

Jason wiggled his foot a little bit and it caught under the hem of Tim's shirt. It was slow, and happened over a period of ten minutes, but eventually Jason had his foot pressed against Tim's skin. Tim had been hyper aware of each moment, and when Jason absently started tapping his big toe as he read, Tim chanced looking over at him. He could tell Jason had finished the short story Tim was writing about and had moved onto reading something else by the amount of pages on either side of where the book was open. The man had a sort of soft look on his face, so Tim guessed whatever Jason was reading, he enjoyed it. 

Tim went back to revising his essay with a small smile of his own. Maybe Jason was attracted to men, and in moments like this, Tim pretended that just maybe Jason liked him, too. 

  
**Six** : “Tim I Wish You Were Born A Girl” Of Montreal

Tim was thankful he was already so pale with fever because any colour that had been left in his face would have drained at the sight in front of him. Tim could not even manage to be mad or annoyed because Jason looked so absolutely proud of himself. 

“Jason, what is that?” Tim croaked out, before dissolving into a fit of coughs. 

Jason patiently waited for Tim to finish, then handed him one of the dozen or so water bottles Tim had accumulated around the bed. Tim sipped slowly as Jason went back to beaming. “It's spaghetti, with like half a rind of cheese grated into it and way too much black pepper for my tastes because that is how you take it, right?” Jason held out the bowl to Tim, who took it and cradled it awkwardly to his chest. He was glad his nose was so stopped up, because he was positive the scent of the tomato sauce would have made him sick. 

“Yes, that is how I take it.” Tim mumbled, still staring at what was supposedly pasta. Jason, for all his brilliance and skills, could not cook. He could prepare the dish and make it look presentable, but Tim knew better. Jason, without fail, always seemed to make whatever he cooked taste like tar and sea water mixed together. Jason never seemed to be bothered by the fact, though, and Tim suspected it came from Jason's upbringing. 

But at the moment Tim could not even stomach broth so he had no idea why Jason thought he would be able to eat an entire pot of spaghetti. He knew Jason was trying to be helpful and take care of him, but honestly, Tim would much rather be left alone to sleep; though, he could never voice that. This was such a rare occurrence and he did not want to spoil it by being an ass.

Tim pushed some of the ground cheese around with the fork and gave Jason his best pathetic look. “'m not sure how much I can eat...” He said, pitching his already weak and haggard voice to sound like he was truly sorry. 

Jason ohed, with his eyes widening a bit, like it hadn't dawned on him that this wasn't the best dish for someone who was sick to eat. Jason took the bowl from Tim and started going back to the kitchen. “I'll make you some tea instead.”

Tim went white as snow and started trying to figure out how mad Jason would be at him if Tim pretended he was asleep when the man returned. It was worth the risk and Tim promptly curled up underneath the covers.


	3. Music Shuffle Prompt III & Song Prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the music shuffle prompt, as well as song prompts from various Tumblr users.

  
**Thirteen** : “Shake It Off” Taylor Swift

The bass was so loud that not only could Tim feel it in his chest, but the water in the bottle he was holding was bouncing in tune with the music. Tim would be annoyed that the music was cranked up all the way if he wasn't so memorized by what was happening in the living room.

“What the fuck does Dick think he is doing playing this shi-” Tim put an arm out to catch Jason's chest. The man stopped walking and glared at Tim. Tim put a finger to his lips, then pointed to the living room. “Oh...” Tim saw Jason move to lean on the door frame they were standing in so he could watch as well. 

Bruce, Alfred, and Damian had gone to France for some reason that had not been fully explained to Tim. The Manor was meant to be empty, and Tim had come over to enjoy the fact he could use the entertainment system without anyone bothering him. Jason seemed to have had the same idea, because Tim had ran into him at the entrance to the Batcave. 

Dick beat them both to it. 

A pop tune that Tim was not familiar with was blaring through out the Manor and Dick, dressed in a light pink dress shirt, a pair of white briefs, and white socks, was dancing around the living room, pretending to sing into a candle holder. Tim couldn't help but stare because Dick was throwing himself completely into his imaginary performance; his arms were in the air, his hips were swinging back and forth, and he was sliding around the hard wood floors. 

“Do you think he's going to start a brothel next?” Jason asked, referencing Dick's choice in clothes. 

“Oh, it is going to take a lot more than money to keep me from posting this online.” Tim answered as he snapped out of his daze to pull out his phone. “A lot more.”

Dick continued to dance on, oblivious he was soon going to blackmailed by his younger brothers.

  
**Author's Choice** : 'Colors of The Wind' Disney's Pocahontas

“Excuse me,” Tim said, appearing out of thin air almost and slipping to stand between Damian and the gaggle of reporters. He canted his head slightly to the right, a pleasant smile across his lips, but his eyes were burning with anger. “Can you please repeat that question?”

Jason had never dealt well with the paparazzi, he mostly wanted to shoot them, and for moments like now, he was glad someone had convinced him to leave his guns at home. Dick hands were gripped onto Damian's shoulders, keeping them both from beating the son of a bitch with a tape recorder into the ground. Jason was half annoyed at Bruce for not joining them on this outing, because he was sure the man would have gone into full Batman mode. Luckily, depending on who would be asked, Tim had just arrived to the restaurant, with his amazing restraint and silver tongue that had ruined more than one journalist's career. 

The man in the center of the crowd shifted uncomfortably, making Tim smile more. Bulbs were going off and Jason could count fifteen hands clutching recorders thrust forward. “I...uh...asked how Mister Wayne feels about attacks on Paris this morning.” Tim 'huh'ed and slipped his hands into his pants pockets and Jason knew what was coming.

“My hearing must be off, then, because it sounded to me like you asked my ten year old brother if he supported the attacks on Paris this morning and I cannot think of one reason why someone would think to ask such a thing.” Tim's smile got a little sweeter. “Please, enlighten me.” 

“Because he's....” The reporter trailed off while glancing at Damian. Damian snarled at the man and Tim shifted to the side to block their view of each other.

“Because he is what? A ten year old? They always have such insightful knowledge about global events. Or because he is a Wayne and you all love to ask us our political views? That can't be it, our father has never once been asked his views on such topics as gun control.” Tim drew himself up to his full height, and even though he was much shorter than the people in the crowd, they all seemed to take a step back. “Or is it because of his ethnic heritage? Sir, you could not be possibly accusing my ten year old brother of having ties to an international terrorist organization, can you, just because his skin tone is darker than yours?” Damian snarled again from behind Tim and Jason resisted the urge to laugh, because Damian sort of did have those ties, technically. 

“No, I just-” Tim cut the man off with a sharp wave of his hand. 

“Because I would not want to think a reporter who represents The Globe would be so blatantly racist. Were you going to ask my other brother to read your palm for you next?” Tim took out his phone and began going through it. “My sister is not here, but I can call her up for you if you'd like to ask how her math skills are. Or maybe you were going to go in a different direction and make no so subtle digs at my masculinity like The Globe tends to do when they aren't asking ten year olds whether or not they are terrorists.”

Jason could barely see through the dozens of camera flashes and he wondered how the hell the small group of paparazzi had turned into a media circus. Damian still looked like he wanted to snap the reporter's neck, but Dick's knuckles were no longer whitened with strain and Jason was silently grateful for Tim's intervention. Even if Jason was not extremely close to his family, he did not like seeing them so shaken by just a few words. 

He decided enough was enough, and stepped forward, wrapping a possessive arm around Tim's waist. Tim got the hint instantly and leaned into Jason's hold. “Now, as lovely as this little chat was, we are now late for our dinner reservations.” They both started walking towards the crowd, which quickly parted. Dick pushed Damian to follow them, and when they were inside the doors of the restaurant, they all disengaged from each other.

“Fucking racist asshole.” Dick growled, pulling off his coat and scarf.

“Oh, I can see the headlines now,” Tim said, putting his hands in front of him to mimic reading a newspaper. “'Drake-Wayne plays white-savior to his mixed-race siblings while confirming his homosexuality.'” Jason snorted.

“Oh, please, you have had more girlfriends than Dick. You were engaged, for god's sake.” 

“That was fake and the main stream media has no concept of what bisexuality is.” Dick and Jason rolled their eyes, glad that the mood was starting to lighten, though Damian had his arms crossed and was still scowling.

“Little D?” 

“They think I'm a terrorist.” Dick moved to hug his younger brother, then stopped at his next words. “I'm going to send them a bomb in the mail.”

“Damian!”

“Damian, that is exactly what you should not do, I do not even have to explain why that is a horrible idea,” Dick was talking so quickly, his words were running together. Damian just smirked up at his older brothers.

“A glitter bomb.” Dick stopped talking while Tim gave a sort of nod shrug of approval and Jason began cackling.

  
**Whatislifetheanswerisfandoms:** “Curse Of the Virgin Canvas” Alesana 

For once in Jason's life, Gotham actually looked inviting. There were no clouds in the sky, it was warm with a light sea breeze, and there were sounds of life through out the city. Jason took another swig from the nearest bottle of alcohol, angry that Fate was still mocking him.

“You should go out an enjoy the sun, Jason. You can't stay holed up in here forever,” Tim said from the kitchen table, leaning his head into his hands. 

“Go away.” Jason snarled, refusing to look back into the apartment. He finished off whatever he was drinking, rum possibly, and threw the bottle at the wall. It did not shatter and that irritated Jason more. 

“No. Someone has to make sure you don't die of alcohol poisoning or choke on your own vomit. And since you won't answer Dick's calls, I guess you are stuck with me.” 

Jason picked up another bottle, only to find it empty. He growled and stomped his way to the kitchen, refusing to look at Tim as he did. “If I talked to him would you go away?”

“Probably not. You'd lie and leave town before he could find you. You'd never let him help.” 

“I don't need help!” Jason snapped, slamming the refrigerator door closed after retrieving a beer. It was the only thing he had left to try and drown everything that was going on. It was too much to handle. He just wanted to drink until all the pain was gone, but Tim kept pouring out everything before Jason could get to it. Or at least that is what Jason kept telling himself. 

There was no way Tim could even touch the bottles Jason had littered throughout his apartment.

Tim wasn't really there.

Tim was dead.

And Jason had been the one to kill him. 

Jason glanced over to his former lover. Tim was still sitting at the kitchen table, looking rather bored. He was dressed in the remains of his Red Robin costume, his black, slightly matter hair sticking out of what was left of his cowl. Dried blood was cacked along Tim's temple and the corner of his slips, and fresh blood was dripping from the bullet hole in his chest, gathering into a pool on Jason's floor. Tim gave Jason a soft smile when he realized Jason was looking at him. 

“I think you need help, Jay.” Jason could feel his legs begin to shake and when he collapsed to the floor, fighting back sobs, it was no surprise to him.

“I'm sorry....I'm so sorry.” Tim waved a bored hand in Jason's direction. 

“It's fine, Jason. Really. We all knew this day would come.” Jason shook his head and forced his hands up to grip at his hair and pull. He needed to feel something, some sort of pain for what he had done. He needed to be punished for what he had done, but he was such a coward and could not face anyone. All he wanted to do was drink until he passed out over and over again. He heard, thought he heard, a chair scrap along the floor, then soft footsteps. “Stop that.” Icy air wrapped itself around Jason's wrist and he lost all will to do anything and slumped more to the floor. 

“I shot you.” Jason whispered as the icy air began to dance over his hair.

“I know.”

“I didn't mean to...” 

“I know...” 

“You got in the way.” The tears were leaking from his eyes and he couldn't stop shaking. Tim was dead. He had killed Tim. He had done this to his Babybird.

“He didn't deserve to die.” Jason pushed himself up and glared at Tim, wonderful, sweet, dead Tim, who was looking at Jason with all the love in the world. 

“Neither did you!” Tim shook his head and traced his cold fingers along Jason's jaw.

“I made my choice. It is okay.” Jason launched himself at Tim, trying to hit him, but he sailed through the man's image and landed hard on the floor behind him. Tim sighed and turned around to pet more at Jason.

“It's not okay! You're dead, Tim! And they wouldn't let me bring you to the Pit! I could have saved you!” He was fully crying and screaming now. It had taken Bruce, Dick, and Damian to get Tim's body away from Jason and they had to actually use a stunning agent to knock him out because he could not calm down. How had they expected him to calm down after killing Tim?

“I am glad they did. I didn't want to go into the Pit, Jason. Can you imagine how smug Ra's would have been if I had used it?” Tim smiled as he settled next to Jason. “I'm not mad at you...actually..I'm sort of glad it was you. I'm okay, I promise.” Jason attempted to curl next to Tim, only to go through him, again. Tim moved a bit so that if Jason actually opened his eyes, the illusion wouldn't be broken. “Are you going to go to my funeral?” Jason shook his head. The service was at sunset and Jason mildly wondered if the weather was so nice for that reason; Gotham had always loved Tim. 

“I can't...” Tim nodded and settled his hand so it was hovering just above Jason's shoulder. 

“Are you going to let me go...?” Tim asked softly after a few moments. As much as Jason had been screaming at Tim to leave, it was his mind that kept his lover rooted to Earth. 

“I can't....” 

“Okay....That's okay, Jason. We'll stay here.” 

“..together?” Jason mumbled, emotional and physical exhaustion starting to take over, as well as far too much alcohol. 

“Of course, Jason. Together.”

  
**Anonymous:** “Baby Mine” Dumbo

Cassandra rolled out from under her covers and slipped out of bed, unable to sleep. It wasn't the jet lag; she did not have anything close to a set sleeping habit, it was the fact the Manor was so quiet. She had gotten fairly used to the noise of Hong Kong and the near silence of home was a bit unnerving. Cassandra enjoyed silence, but she did not feel like anyone else was around her. That is what she didn't like.

Neither Tim nor Dick were in their rooms and Cassandra huffed as she closed a door. Patrol had ended early and it had been promised that everyone would have breakfast together. Cassandra knew that the family did not tend to keep their promises when it came to family bonding, but she had hoped maybe that at least Dick would have stuck around. He was the one always pushing for such a thing whenever Cassandra did come home. 

She sighed and started shuffling towards the other end of the hallway. Maybe she could coax Damian's dog from his room and teach it new tricks. She knew better than to try and wake the child; he would probably bite her or something and then they would end up fighting and breaking things. It would not turn out well and their father would be more than a little angry. Cassandra pushed open the door and pouted at what she saw. The giant dog was curled against Damian's side and he had an arm thrown around the dog's body. There would be no getting the dog away from his boy. 

Cassandra turned in a circle in the hallway, trying to figure out what to do to keep her occupied. She did not have the heart to bother Alfred; the man needed sleep more than any of them. She resigned herself to the fact she would be alone and had decided to look at what video games were in the entertainment room when she heard it. A faint squeak of the springs of a mattress and the rustling of blankets. She pinpointed that the noise had come from Bruce's room and tilted her head to one side. It had never occurred to her to check his room. The last time she had been in Gotham, Bruce had not even set foot in there. 

Cassandra crept towards the door and gently eased it open, afraid she would be disturbing Bruce somehow. The man was asleep, with his covers half thrown off and his face screwed up in pain. Cassandra almost rushed to him, concerned he was hurt or ill, when she remembered that nightmares were a thing. Bruce was having a nightmare. 

Cassandra tried to remember everything she had ever been told about nightmares; they were bad dreams, usually caused by emotional pain. Someone had told her not to wake people when they were having a nightmare, or perhaps that was a night terror, but she did not know what that was either, so Cassandra decided to not wake Bruce from his sleep. She could not leave him to fight his demons alone, though. Bruce would have never left her and Cassandra always secretly aspired to be like her father.

She crossed the room silently and crawled into the bed, careful to not make it creak. To her surprise, Bruce stayed in his slumber; perhaps he knew she was no threat to him or he was so caught up in his nightmare he could not wake. She settled by his shoulder and brought her knees up to her chest while she stared down at the man who had become her father. She did not like seeing him like this. She screwed up her nose in thought as she watched Bruce give a low groan of pain. There had to be a way she could bring him comfort. 

Cassandra didn't know very many songs, but she knew that lullabies helped calm people down. At least, that is what she had learned from movies, and Jason had told her that movies sometimes told the truth. Cassandra licked her lips, and began singing in a barely a whisper the only song she knew all the words to. 

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are..” Bruce stirred and Cassandra stilled. When he did not move again, she continued. “Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky.” Bruce's face began to relax and Cassandra's lips twitched into a smile. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.” Bruce let out a sigh, still deep in his sleep. Not missing a beat, Cassandra began to song up again, repeating the same three lines in her quiet voice over and over. 

Bruce did so much for her, so the least Cassandra could do was make sure that he got a few hours of peaceful sleep. After a few rounds of the song, Bruce relaxed completely and Cassandra chanced moving. She fixed the man's blankets and placed a gentle kiss to his forehead before curling back up in her spot and resuming her song. She kept singing until the sun began to peek through the windows. As sunlight stretched over Bruce's covers, Cassandra carefully removed herself from the bed and left the room, not stopping her song until the door was once again closed. 

Bruce lifted his head and smiled at the door. He had been awake for quite some time, but hadn't dared to disturb his daughter. It had been a small, precious moment for them and it would be something Bruce would treasure for the rest of his days.

  
**Werewolfofkingdoms:** “Kiss Me Again” -We Are In The Crowd

Tim was sure he could no longer support himself as he leaned heavily into the rooftop door of some midtown building. He slowly slid down the wall, leaving a long smear of blood as he did, until he was a crumpled mess on the floor. Jason collapsed beside him, looking no more elegant than Tim did, and rested his head against Tim's shoulder.

“Next time you call me to hang out,” Tim muttered, “We are getting pizza and watching a movie.”

“We did watch a movie.” Jason replied, sounding as horrible as Tim felt.

“Two hours of security footage is not a movie by any stretch of the imagination.” 

“Pretend it was one of those weird Indie movies that is meant to show, like, how isolated we are from each other or something.” Jason had turned his head a little so he was talking into Tim's neck. Each puff of hot breath sent a tingle up Tim's spine...or maybe it was the blood loss. Tim wasn't sure anymore. 

“We didn't have pizza.” Jason gave a weak laugh.

“Okay, next time we can get pizza.” Tim leaned his head against Jason's and forced himself to keep his eyes open. They were both suffering from severe trauma and were lucky to have made it as far as they had without either one of them falling over. Jason had lost his helmet somewhere along the way and Tim's cape and cowl were now floating in the partially frozen river. It was snowing heavily and Tim was glad Jason was leaning on him, because both of their tops were completely shredded. If someone did not get to them soon, they would either bleed out or freeze to death. 

Tim groped around until he found Jason's hand, then he laced their fingers together. If anything, it would help keep their fingers warm and Tim could somewhat gauge what Jason's heartrate was, but if he was honest with himself, Tim just wanted to be closer to Jason. He had no idea what their relationship was, but he would trade it for nothing. Sometimes they would refer to each other as brothers, then the next moment they would be pressing each other to the nearest flat surface and kissing. They had never gotten farther than kissing and had never addressed what they did, and that was fine with Tim. 

Jason squeezed Tim's hand and half heartedly flopped his other arm over Tim's chest. They tangled their legs together and Tim awkwardly bumped his forehead against Jason's. “They're coming...”

“Mhm...” 

“You've got to stay awake, Jason.” Jason opened one eye and smiled weakly at Tim.

“I know..” The older man leaned in, brushing his already freezing nose against Tim's, before placing his lips on Tim's. It wasn't so much as a kiss as they were touching at the lips. They moved their mouths for only just a moment, before just enjoying the pressure and warmth of each other for what felt like hours. Tim stared into what he could of Jason's eyes before he felt his own lids start to get heavy. Jason ran his thumb over the back of Tim's hand and he knew it was a silent permission. It was okay for him to close his eyes. 

As Tim let his eyelids fall shut, he saw Jason do the same. They slumped against each other fully, their kiss never breaking.


	4. Keep Me Warm

Jason isn't sure if he is more surprised or angry to find Timothy Drake nesting in his bed. He was surprised because his bed had most definitely been empty ten minutes ago when Jason came through his room to use the bathroom. He was even more surprised because his bed was the very last place Jason would have thought to find Tim. On the other hand, Jason was pissed because he had not even heard Tim break into his apartment, shed half his amour, roll himself into Jason's blankets, and pass out. 

Most of all, Jason was angry that he did not have the heart to wake Tim up and kick him out. Tim looked peaceful, with his chest rising and falling in an even pattern and a small smile on his lips. Jason would have been convinced this was some sort of prank or trap if the kid didn't look completely exhausted. There were too dark shadows under Tim's eyes, and despite looking content, Jason was sure Tim wouldn't wake up even if Jason fired his gun next to his ear. Tim needed at least a few hours sleep, and, just this once, Jason was willing to overlook the breach in security to allow it. 

Tim twitched his nose as Jason took the few steps from the door to his bed. Jason wasn't going to let the fact that his bed was occupied get in the way of his own desperate need for sleep. Jason sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the younger man in his bed, trying to figure out where any edge of his blanket was. Tim had very effectively created a cocoon around himself, so only his head and neck were exposed. Jason finally grabbed a handful of blanket and tugged. 

Nothing happened. 

Jason tugged again, harder this time, and Tim made displeased noise and curled in on himself. Jason instantly let go of the blanket; he did not want to wake Tim up. 

It was too cold of a night to not have a blanket and Jason only kept one in this apartment. He sighed and laid down in his bed, too tired to try and come up with a better solution. Jason wrapped one arm around Tim's frame and pulled him close. The blanket bundle seemed perfectly willing to move as long as it did not have to give up its wrappings; Tim rolled and curled himself against Jason, tucking his head into Jason's neck and providing Jason with enough warmth for him to eventually drift to sleep. 

The sun was shining on him when Jason woke up. He felt groggy, but in a kind of good way, like he was coming out of a deep, restful sleep, not the usual nightmare filled nights he had. It took him longer than he would admit to remember that he had not fallen asleep by himself. 

Jason blinked open his eyes and couldn't help but frown at finding he was alone. Tim was gone. Jason sighed a little and pulled the blanket that had been draped around him closer. He took a minute and carefully rolled and tucked the blankets around him, recreating Tim's cocoon for himself. There was still a lingering warmth of body heat to it and it felt pleasant on Jason's skin. He buried his face back into his pillow to sleep more, pretending that Tim was still there with him.


	5. Music Shuffle IV

  
**Twelve** : “Circus” - Britney Spears

As much as Jason loved the idea busting in through the window of the nightclub for the top tier of Gotham's social circle and causing a panic, he did know the art of subtly. He also knew he was way outside of his 'territory' and Helena was still mad about that little incident with the tow truck. So, Jason paid way too much money to a bouncer to be let into a club that didn't officially exist. 

He hadn't expected the music to be so loud; it had be a low thud outside. Whoever had done the soundproofing had done an amazing job. There was excitement and life as soon as the doors had opened; a contrast to the quietness of the office building. There were three levels to the club, with the top two levels being balconies to observe the lowest landing, which was the dance floor. The entrance to the club was the middle level, which held the bar and various lounges and the balconies above that were the VIP booths. Jason needed to get up there without causing too much commotion; at least, until he was ready to leave. 

Jason had made it about five feet into the club when blonde hair was suddenly in front of his nose. “Jason!” 

“Steph...?” Jason looked the former Robin up and down, unsure about how he felt over her attire; a tiny and overly sparkly silver dress and pumps that made her almost eye level with Jason. He finally hummed his approval after seeing that heels were serrated. 

“What are you doing here?”

Jason crossed his arms and looked around the club before looking back to the blonde. “Working. What are you doing here?” Stephanie somehow managed to look disappointed and excited at the same time and he had no idea how she did it.

“Killing about ten birds with one stone.” The crowd bellow them roared in approval of something and Stephanie grinned. “Make that eleven. Let's make it twelve, come on, you won't believe this.” She grabbed Jason's hand and began pulling him towards the edge of the balcony with amazing force.

“Steph, let me go, I will break your-...holy shit.” 

“I know.” 

In the middle of the dance floor, there was a small raised stage, and on that stage was Timothy Drake, Conner Kent, and a woman that Jason did not recognize between them. The woman, who had pink hair, had her back to Tim, and had one arm wrapped around Kon's neck, with her other angled back to grip at Tim's thigh. Kon had reached beyond the woman and had two fingers in the front of the waistband of Tim's jeans, pulling him even more against the woman. Tim was running his hands anywhere he could reach on both the woman and Kon. 

Jason felt like he was watching some kind of weird sexual act, but with clothes on. They were all dancing together, but there was so much grinding and touching and pushing up of clothes that it was amazingly arousing just to watch. Kon was a little awkward and it was funny, and the female looked like she had partied more than a few times and knew how to move, but Jason could not take his eyes off of Tim even if he had tried. 

Tim's black button up was mostly undone, showing off the top part of his abs. He must have been wearing some kind of makeup, because Jason knew Tim had a bad scar over his sternum that was now absent. He was moving his hips against the woman with pink hair's rear in a suggestive way while somehow making his own ass look inviting and needing someone to be moving against it. His clothes were tight enough to show his body while not being restrictive, but the best thing Tim was wearing was his smirk. He looked like he was about to eat his dance partners alive and it sent a shiver down Jason's spine. 

“How...why?” Jason managed to ask between song changes. 

“Which part?” Stephanie asked, moving to lean on the banister, wearing her own smirk, which didn't look nearly as delicious as Tim's. 

“All of it.” 

“Tim lost a bet, Kon got called out for about three major favors, my birthday is coming up soon, make up test, intel gathering, a job, testing a theory, testing another theory, and this place is supposed to have really good martinis.” Stephanie said, counting each thing off on her fingers. “Huh, I guess that is only nine birds. Close enough.” 

“Was I supposed to follow any of that?” Jason glanced to Stephanie, then quickly looked back to Tim, who had his fingers tangled in Kon's shirt. 

“Some detective you are. And you are proving one of the theories, thanks.” The blonde reached out and patted Jason on the arm. Jason swatted her hand. “Which, my dear drooling friend, is that while Tim is really good at hiding in the shadows, he can draw all eyes to him, as well.” She nudged him, forcing Jason's attention back to her, and nodded up towards one of the VIP booths. A group of men were standing at the balcony, watching the scene below them, with the man in the center licking his lips every few seconds. “That is Fritz Pesi. He runs the pipe line for this crowd, and is an unknowing accessory to a case Red is working. He's also Bubblegum's uncle and has a thing for Pretty Birds.” 

The crowd roared again before Jason could respond and he snapped his attention back to Tim. If he wasn't aroused before, he was now. Tim had pulled Kon into a kiss over the woman's shoulder, and if it was meant to be an act, Jason could not tell because the two were very into it. Bubblegum, as Stephanie had called her, seemed to be enjoying it as much as everyone else; she was staring from her strange angle and pawing encouragingly at Tim's hand, which was on the inside of her thigh. 

Then Tim roughly pushed Kon away, saying something Jason couldn't hear over the boom of the music. Kon looked put out, but the woman looked beyond pleased and was writhing herself against Tim's chest while he continue to dance. Kon hopped off the stage while Tim spoke into his new friend's ear. She nodded and Jason watched as Tim dragged his tongue across her cheek before she took his hand and lead him off the platform. 

“So what job are you running?” Stephanie's voice broke Jason out of his trance and he turned his eyes to her. She looked amused. 

“What?”

“Why did you come to the club?” Jason stared at the blonde, trying to remember. All he could think about was Tim's hands and tongue and how he wanted to know exactly what they could do. 

“What is he doing here?” Kon came up beside Stephanie, his lips puffy and red still from the kiss. It made Jason narrow his eyes at his clone, trying to figure out if the kiss had been planned or impromptu. Tim didn't leave things to chance, it had to be part of the plan. Had they practiced to make it seem so authentic? Did they need to? Jason very suddenly wanted to shoot Kon with a kryptonite bullet. 

Jason sneered, then turned and stomped toward the entrance of the club. Screw subtly and screw Helena's wrath; Jason was going to blow the whole building to get his answers if need be. After a cold shower. He needed a very very cold shower first. 

“Proving a theory. Come on, Kon, you owe the birthday girl a martini.” 

“Steph, your birthday is like five months away.” 

“You are buying me a martini.” 

 

****

**Twenty Four** : “Pompeii” - Bastille

Tim's legs were beginning to ache from standing still too long but he could not bring himself to move. Not yet. He wasn't sure what exactly he was waiting for. Perhaps, in the very back of his mind, he was hoping Dick would believe him and come after him, or maybe he was trying to memorize the Gotham skyline in this exact moment. Storm clouds were rolling in from the ocean, but, if Tim squinted, he could see where they ended. He prayed to a God he didn't believe in that it was sign for how things were going to turn out.

Thunder clapped as the Bat Symbol appeared above Gotham. Tim couldn't help but smirk at the timing, wondering how many criminals nearly just had a small heart attack. He closed his eyes and allowed his other senses to take over for his last minutes in the city. He could taste the salt and smog in the air, hear the sirens in the distance, and feel like static of the storm dance over his skin. So many cities had the same elements, but none combined them quite like Gotham did. Gotham was his home.

Gotham was Bruce's home, and Bruce deserved to come home, more than anyone else ever did. 

And Tim would bring him home, no matter what. Tim would find Bruce, and only then they could both go home, together. That was his mission. It was the only thing that matter, now.

Tim tightened his fist around the picture he was clutching as the wind began to pick up. There was a crunch of boots on leaves behind him and Tim spun around. When he opened his eyes and saw Jason standing behind him, a backpack on his shoulder, Tim didn't know what to think. There was an overwhelming disappoint that it wasn't Dick, but Tim knew better than to voice that. He knew Dick was never going to follow him. 

“You're not dead.”

“Don't sound so disappointed, Replacement.” Tim scowled at the man who had very recently tried to kill him. 

“What do you want, Jason?” Jason nodded towards the picture Tim was holding and shrugged. 

“I'm going with you.” Tim tightened his fingers around the photograph, slightly afraid Jason would lunge for it, and tensed himself for a fight.

“What?” Jason sighed and adjusted him backpack a little, looking almost uncomfortable. 

“I believe you. About Bruce still being alive. We both know that if Death did ever come for the man properly, Bruce would glare Him into submission and send Him sulking away. I mean, shit, Tim...I've seen enough to acknowledge that this isn't the most out there thing. For fuck's sake, I came back from the dead. Bruce being...lost in Time seems pretty tame for us.” 

“Don't fuck with me, Jason.” Tim hissed, taking a step forward. “I'm not in the mood for this.” 

Jason held up his hands defensively. “I'm not fucking with you, kid. I'm on board one hundred percent. No tricks, no trying to stab you with a batarang when you aren't looking, no anything you don't want me to do. You're the lead on this.” Jason smirked. “I'll be your Robin.” 

“Why? Why do you care if he is dead or not?” Tim took another step forward,ignoring the tease and reaching for his bo staff. Jason sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, still not looking like he wanted to fight, but Tim knew better than to let his guard down. 

“Because despite it all, he's the only one who gave me a chance and helping you find him would clear my debt.” The words were heavy and Tim could feel that they were true. He relaxed and put his hands to his sides. He had forgotten that years and years ago, Bruce had also been a father to Jason, and on some weird level, he still kind of was. 

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Tim turned to look back at the city. The Bat Signal was still in the sky and the storm had reached the shore. “So, where are we going first?” 

Tim ran his thumb along the edge the the picture, then slowly held it up at arm's length until it was blocking his view of the image in the sky. It was a beat up picture, folded down the middle too many times from when Tim used to carry it around when he was younger. It was his first real picture of Batman; standing on the edge of a building with his cape blowing out in front of him, the Bat Signal behind him, with storm clouds in the horizon. It had been the first time Tim had seen the real Bruce and he needed to keep that image in his mind; not the burnt body Dick had brought back. 

“Spain. We're going to Spain.” 

****

**Prompt:** "Stray Italian Greyhound" -Vienna Teng 

“I can't believe that actually worked. Do you know what the odds were of that actually working? We should be dead.” 

Jason was torn between wanting to push Tim off the side of bus into the icy black water below them and pulling him into a kiss. Neither side won and Jason continued to sit in silence, dangling one leg through a broken window, glaring at the man who nearly got him killed. Again. 

Tim's plan had been stupid, risky, had a snowball's chance in hell of working, and Jason had known it the moment Tim opened his mouth, but because it was Tim making this idiotic suggestion, Jason had agreed to it. Tim had Jason wrapped around his little finger and did not even know it. Jason was very painfully aware of it, though. The way Tim could make him smile, the way being around Tim made his chest feel heavy with anxiety, the way he had dropped everything at the hint of being near Tim, and the way his thoughts would drift to Tim at night when he was rubbing his hands over himself; Jason hated all of it. He was not the type of person who got crushes. He was a vigilante who half ran the Gotham underworld and frequently shot people between the eyes with no remorse, he should not want to brush his little finger against Tim's to see if it would lead to more. 

But goddamn, Jason wanted to. He wanted to so badly. 

Several booms from above them caused the cables holding the bus in the air to rock and Jason tore his eyes away from Tim.

“Well, that is different.” The night sky exploded with colour and shapes and Jason canted his head to one side at the sight. “They must have been smuggling fireworks as well as guns.”

“It is that time of year.”

“Ah yes, guns for the thugs and fireworks for the suburban dad's who want to impress their kids. Variety is the key to success.” 

Tim chuckled and Jason glanced over to him. The man was leaning back on his elbows and looking up at the display in the sky. The bursts of color were highlighting the shadows under Tim's eyes and Jason found himself concerned about how much sleep the man got. Without his domino to hide behind, Tim looked like he was two steps away from collapsing from exhaustion. Jason would frown at the thought if it was currently possible; Tim had this sort of content smile on his face and Jason couldn't help but mimic it. 

“Hopefully Bruce or Dick show up before the cops do.” 

Jason snapped out of staring and looked back up at the bridge. Both Tim and Jason were in civilian clothes and had no way of getting off of the bus they were stranded on, unless they wanted to jump the hundred or so feet into the harbor. Jason hummed in agreement as another cluster of fireworks went off. The sirens were getting closer and he did not particularly want to try to make up a convincing lie as to how he and Tim had gotten where they were. 

“Jay?”

“Mhm?” 

“Thanks for coming with me.”

A gentle, familiar purr of an engine came from below them before Jason could respond, and Tim and Jason craned their necks to see an amused Nightwing looking up at them. 

“Need a ride?”

“Yes, please.” Tim was the first to push himself up into standing. He slid his hands forward, barely brushing his fingers against Jason's, before carefully standing up. Tim smiled softly down at Jason, the sky red and yellow and sparkling behind him, before stepping off the bus and dropping out of sight. A heavy yet watery feeling bubbled up from Jason's stomach to his chest and enveloped his heart. It made him feel on edge, but it was intoxicating in such a good way. He wanted to run from the feeling, but go towards it at the same time. A simple smile from Tim had caused a swell of emotion and Jason didn't know how to process that.

“Are you coming, Jay?” 

Jason snapped out of his pleasant confusion and slipped off the side of the bus.

****

**Three:** "Goodnight and Go"- Imogen Heap 

Jason didn't know how to react to seeing Tim going about a somewhat normal life. It was nearing two in the morning, Tim should have been on the rooftops like Jason was, not walking down the street with groceries, bobbing his head along to music Jason couldn't hear. Jason had half mind to go down there and find out why his former replacement was not on patrol when Tim messed with something on his phone. Jason stopped himself from jumping down to the street and stepped back into the shadows. Tim's wrist was wrapped up in a gauze; he must have either broken it or sprained it badly enough to prevent him from being out in the field. 

Jason decided to leave this be and get back to his own work. He had only been breezing through this neighborhood on his way somewhere else. He didn't even know Tim lived around here. Jason turned to hop onto the next roof top when he saw Tim spin around out of the corner of his eye . Jason drew his gun on instinct, thinking maybe someone was going to try and attack Tim or something. Tim wouldn't need Jason's intervention or anything for some random thug, but Jason wouldn't chance Tim not not needing his help. He couldn't let a former Robin die to something as a lame as a mugging, after all. 

But Tim wasn't being attacked. 

Tim was dancing. 

Sort of. 

Tim had spun around, swaying his shoulders from side to side, and continued on walking towards his destination with a bounce in his step. There was a stupid smile on his face and Tim was acting like no one was watching him. With a quick glance around, Jason realized no one else was. Tim was alone on the street and the only light was coming from street lamps and Tim's phone. If this wasn't such a well off area, Jason might have been concerned by the amount of darkness. 

Jason canted his head and watched as Tim did some fancy foot work down the sidewalk. This wasn't the man he was used to encountering. Tim always had a somewhat annoyed expression when around Jason and was quick with the snark. Tim seemed to be consistently surrounded by a cloud of angst that Jason found to be understandable, given the kid's history. If someone had told Jason that Tim danced down the street in the middle of the night, Jason would have asked if they had mistaken Dick for Tim, but Jason was seeing this for himself.

Tim was rocking down the sidewalk, not a care in the world, looking like he was having the time of his life and Jason found himself grinning at the sight. It was so innocent and didn't fit his mental image of Tim at all. Jason, though he would never admit it to anyone, liked this side of Tim. It was a relaxed happiness that was so very rare to see in Gotham. He could so very easily ruin this moment or mock Tim for it later, but he did not want to. He was enjoying it as much as Tim seemed to be. 

Jason stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and strolled along the edge of the roof, following Tim for the next few blocks. Tim finally turned into the stoop of an apartment building and ceased his fun. Jason watched as the smaller man disappeared through the doorway, then waited a few minutes to see if any of the windows facing the street lit up. None of them seemed to belong to Tim, though, and Jason did not feel up to crossing the street to find exactly which window lead to his replacement. 

As Jason resumed making his way across Gotham, he could not get the image of Tim dancing out of his mind or force away the soft smile that image produced from his lips. 


	6. Dragon

“This is the best thing ever!” Dick managed to croak out between his laughs. He had lost the ability to stand, and was on his knees, red in the face from lack of air and glee. He was the only one who found the situation amusing. 

“No, it isn't!” Tim snarled, scarlet and gold flames shooting from his mouth as he did. Tim clamped his mouth shut quickly, pressing a hand to his mouth to keep the fire in. Smoke plumed from his nostrils an d he glared at Dick as the man howled more.

“I hate magic.” Damian mumbled for what had to be the fiftieth time that night. Jason nodded in agreement, while Alfred made more notes on his tablet.

“You're a dragon!” Dick wheezed, while more smoke came out of Tim. “You're last name is Drake!” 

“I'm not a dragon!” Tim snapped, sending sparks out around his hand, but no flames. 

“Dude, you are kind of a dragon.” Tim's glare turned to Jason, who shrugged. 

Thanks to a mishap with an ancient artifact and a being who claimed to be a sorcerer, it had been a very interesting last hour. The Family had returned to the Batcave and Bruce had gone straight into a call with Zatara, while every one else could do nothing more than wait. Wait and watch as Tim experienced more and more changes to his body. 

The first change had been his eyes, the pupils had narrowed and become slits, much like a felines. Though it looked strange, this was the only change Tim liked, because his vision improved dramatically. It was like his eyes had gone super HD; he could see the individual beads of sweat on Damian's forehead and could even see the vein in Jason's neck move with each pump of his heart. 

The next changes Tim did not like at all. He became pointy, in so many senses of the word. His canines grew slightly longer and there was no other word to describe them besides fangs. His nails turned into a deep red color, extended out at least a centimeter from the end of his finger tips, and had sharpened. The worst of all the pointiness was his ears; they had turned elfen like and that seemed to serve no other purpose than aesthetics. 

The most recent, and seemingly final, change was the fact Tim could now breathe fire. He had absolutely no control of it, and each burst of flames was completely different from the last. Tim was unaffected by the flames, but he had accidentally caught Damian's cape on fire the first time he had shouted after his transformation had begun. His brothers and Alfred now kept a good three feet away from him, just in case. 

At least he had not grown scales, or wings, or a tail. Dick would have a field day.

“If this cannot be reversed, you should come up with a dragon themed mantle. Like Red Dragon, instead of Red Robin.” Tim blanched at Damian's idea, a little ball of smoke coming out of his mouth and rising up to the ceiling of the Cave.

“I am not renaming myself after book about a crazed serial killer. I'm not renaming myself at all. He'll find a way to fix this.” 

“I don't see why you would want it fixed. You breathe fire. If that doesn't scare the baddies into complying, I don't know what would.” Jason may have been a little bit jealous he had not been the one at the receiving end of the spell. It had been silently agreed upon that it was best that this was all happening to Tim, and not Jason or Damian. Fate was cruel, not insane. 

“As amusing as this conversation is, it has been twenty seven minutes since your latest....development, Master Timothy. Does anything else feel different?” Alfred seemed to be the only one besides Bruce taking things seriously and Tim was grateful for it. 

“Do you think you can fly?” Dick asked, managing to stop his laughing, but sounded way too hopeful. 

“How could you even jump to that? Why could I possibly fly?”

“Because dragons fly.” Tim resisted the urge to snap he was not a dragon. There was a tingling in his throat that he was starting to suspect meant he was about to shoot flames again. He, instead, narrowed his eyes at Dick.

“Dragons aren't real, Grayson. You can't know what they are and are not capable of.” 

“Really, Damian? Of all the stuff that you have seen, you are telling me there is no way dragons exist.” Jason and Damian began shouting at each other and Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, careful to not scratch himself with his new claws. He let out an annoyed sigh and could feel the smoke blow from between his lips. The sight made Dick start laughing again. 

It was going to be a very long night.


	7. Smiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drabble written as a gift for tumblr user Winterysomnium

Jason had come to learn that Tim had four smiles. 

There was the 'I am genuinely happy at this moment' smile, where Tim's entire face seemed to light up. His mouth would part ever so slightly and his eyes would twinkle, and it was often followed by a burst of laughter. This smile did not come as often as Jason would like, but when it came, Jason knew life was not all blood and pain. Jason would put up with being around his stupid family or Tim's annoying friends if it meant Tim would smile like that more.

The more common of Tim's smile was what Jason dubbed the 'Wayne Smile'. Jason knew that the Drake part of Tim's name carried its own weight in the well off social circle, but when Tim smiled like that, he looked like he could be Bruce's biological son. They had the same fake, but polite, smile, and the same 'I'd rather be wearing a cape' look in their blue eyes. Tim would always tilt his head a fraction to the right when he smiled like that and Jason knew it was because it would produce the most flattering angle. When Tim wore that smile he was always being photographed. Jason had debated creating a small scrap book of newspaper clippings of that smile, but had decided that would be too cheesy.

Jason wished he could create a scrap book of Tim's 'Red Robin' smile, because that would be an album worth keeping. There was a promise of danger in that smile that sent Jason's heart racing. That was a fun smile; there was a hint of white teeth behind it and Jason was sure that Tim was not above resorting to using those teeth if need be. Tim's 'Red Robin' smile was full of snark and wit and it was the last thing so many bad guys saw before being pummeled into the ground by a bo staff. 

Jason wasn't quite sure if anyone else knew of Tim's fourth smile. He wanted to believe it was a smile meant just for him. It was a smile that would make Jason take any number of bullets for Tim. It was just a simple upturn of the left corner of Tim's lips and a slight crinkle of his eyes. He would give Jason this soft look and everything in the world was perfect. Jason had only seen it twice and did everything in his power to make it return. The first time he had seen it was when he had given Tim a cup of coffee one morning, exactly how Tim liked it; with half hazelnut creamer and half white chocolate creamer until the coffee with a light brown and with a touch of brown sugar. Tim had taken the mug without looking at it, and after he had tasted the contents, he had looked at Jason in confusion..then he smiled. 

The second time Jason had seen the smile was when he had gone to Tim's apartment and found clothes that were too big for Tim hanging in the closet. It had just been tee shirts, sweats, and jeans, but Jason had gotten so upset, thinking that someone had left the clothes there, that Tim was sleeping with someone else. Then Jason had seen that the clothes still had tags and that everything new in the closet was exactly Jason's size. The clothes were meant for him. It was a silent confirmation that Jason was not only allowed to keep his things in Tim's apartment, but that he was welcomed there anytime. Jason had changed into some of the clothes, and when Tim had come home, he smiled and didn't say a word about it.

Jason loved all of Tim's smiles. They meant different things but they were all a crucial part of who Tim was. Jason hoped that one day Tim would always be smiling, because it looked so good on him and he deserved it. 

He sometimes wondered if he had different smiles and if Tim noticed all of them. He was sure Tim did.


	8. Favourite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Bruce claimed to have no favourite, Tim was highly aware of bias and that he had one of his own.

Tim watched Jason work, knowing the thoughts going through his head were uncalled for. It was not the time or place to be thinking about Bruce's long ago words that he did not have a favorite Robin. The conversation had been egged on after a late night almost family gathering, after Dick had a little too much to drink while having a concussion and Damian hadn't let the subject slide. 

Debate had been had, with Bruce sitting on the sidelines throwing out facts and not opinions and really having no say in the matter, that if Bruce did have a favourite, it would have been Dick. Damian was the blood son, and Tim had his moments, but ultimately, Dick outshone them both because he was Dick and that was what he did.

Tim realized now, as he watched Jason quietly strip wires, that the man before him had not been mentioned into the conversation at all. It did not anger him, because they had been discussing Bruce's opinion, and not his own. While Bruce claimed to have no favourite, Tim was highly aware of bias and that he had one of his own. 

Tim's favourite Robin had always been Jason. Jason was Tim's Robin, and despite having been Robin himself, Jason was the first one to come to mind when he thought of the mantle.

Jason was passion personified. Whatever he did he threw himself into it; he was all emotion and it didn't matter if it was positive or negative. Jason cared, and maybe at times he cared a little too much. He didn't just care about Gotham, but he cared about the people; he cared about the people no one saw and those that no one else deemed worthy to care about.

When Jason wore the colors, he used to glow. Tim remembered being convinced one night that Jason was actually a meta-human whose skin would light up because how he just used to exude light.

The joy Jason had of being Robin made him smile. It wasn't his job, or a hobby, or an honor. It had been who he was. 

That joy and light had dimmed in Jason over the years, but the passion was never gone. Jason still cared way too much, and maybe in ways many people would never notice, because they were too stubborn to look past the anger. 

“You are in my light, replacement.” 

Tim stepped aside without word, moving his shadow so it fell over Jason and not the warhead he was disarming. 

Tim knew he should be helping Bruce across the room, work on keeping Gotham from going up in a mushroom cloud, or help Dick and Damian fight off the never ending stream of thugs trying to break into the command room they were in to stop them. But Tim couldn't stop watching Jason; watch the way his favourite had spotted the armed bomb in the chaos of everything else going on and started to take care of the problem without alerting anyone else of it. Tim watched the way Jason didn't second think his decision; that informing Bruce or the others of the warhead would cause panic and that would just not do. Bruce needed to focus on Gotham, while Jason had focused on protecting the people around him. 

Jason took something from the body of the bomb and the device gave a soft hum, showing it had been deactived. Jason grinned at Tim and pocketed whatever he had taken, then slid the now useless hunk of metal back under a desk where he had first found it.

“Time to stop standing around, Red. We've got work to do.” 

Tim turned to go towards Bruce at the far end of the room, while Jason moved to join his brothers. Tim glanced over his shoulder once, watching as Jason threw himself into the fight, knowing the man was grinning under his helmet.

Jason was most definitely Tim's favourite Robin.


	9. Angst Fest 6.29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst sentence starter prompts from tumblr.

****

"If you beg I might have mercy on you." 

Dick knew it was useless to struggle against the bonds tying him down, but he couldn't help but try. He had to believe this was some sort of elaborate prank, and any minute, every one else would jump out he shadows, yelling 'surprise!' It was the only way Dick could wrap his mind around the fact that Tim had just snapped and started taking out their friends and family like they were pests to be exterminated.

“You know,” Tim said in a soft, but monotone voice as he unsheathed a curved dagger from his belt of his all black Red Robin suit. “If you beg, I might have mercy on you. I thought, out of everyone, you would understand.” 

Dick swallowed thickly as Tim stepped closer to him. If Dick didn't know any better, he would say Tim's eyes had no life behind them; they were dull and glassy and such a faded blue color they didn't even look real. 

“Tim. Tim, please, tell me wh-” Dick's eyes did not even have a chance to widened as the knife pierced his throat. Tim turned the blade once before yanking it out through the side of his once brother's neck. He canted his head at the spray of blood, then wiped what was on his dagger off on a cloth he produced from his pocket.

“I was always going to have mercy on you, Dick. I'm sparing you from seeing what I have planned for Damian.” A wicked smile formed on his lips. “I might actually enjoy what I am going to do to him.”

 

****

“You've been crying, haven't you?”

It wasn't a redness in his eyes, or a tightness in his voice that gave Tim away, it was the way he couldn't stop twitching his fingers. Jason grabbed the blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch and wrapped it around Tim's shoulders. The younger man looked up at him questioningly for a moment, before looking back out the window.

“You've been crying, haven't you?” Jason asked in a soft voice, trying to not sound accusing. He hated when Tim cried, because the other would lock up and go rigid while tears poured down his cheeks. Tim simply thought Jason hated crying, thought it was weak, so he had been trying to hide his emotions under work and pretending everything was okay.

“No.” Tim lied, and Jason would have believed him if Tim's fingers weren't twitching, like he needed to grab something, hold onto it like an anchor.

“Yes, you have.” Jason wrapped one arm around Tim's shoulders and pulled him in close as he sat beside him, his other hand finding Tim's and squeezing it. 

“He's gone.” Tim's voice cracked and it took everything Jason had to not squeeze his eyes shut. “Alfred is gone. He's dead, Jason. He's dead.”

****

“I've always hated you.”

Jason could barely stand, he was pretty sure all the bones in his right leg were broken if not completely shattered. He was only in an up right position because Dick was holding him up.  


He wished Dick would drop him and let him be in agony on the floor. He deserved it.  


He had kept poking and prodding at the Replacement, mocking him about stealing another of Jason’s mantles, about how he was a Mini-Bruce, probably in more ways than any of them realized. It had just been teasing, Jason’s way of being friendly. Hell, he hadn’t even attacked the kid in months.  


How was he supposed to have known all of his words would be what drove Tim over the edge? How was Jason to know his snipe about Tim not being good enough to be Batman would be the tipping point, cause the kid to try and off himself.  


It had been meant as a damn compliment. Tim was better than the Bat.  


In front of him, Kon-el shifted a too pale Tim in his arms and glared at Jason. Jason knew if Dick wasn’t right there, he’d get some sort of laser vision to his stomach.  


“I’ve always hated you.” The Clone hissed. “I don’t see how he could be so madly in love with you.”

****

“Pick a God and pray.”

Bruce took a deep calming breath through his nose. As much as he wanted to give into his emotions, he knew he couldn’t. Everyone else was breaking and Bruce had to hold it together.  


It was hard to do with his dead son lying in front of him, bleeding out on the pavement.  


Dick was standing at his side, pale and speechless for once in his life. Bruce could see his legs shaking from the corner of his eyes.  


Damian was in hysterics, screaming at the top of his lungs in a mix of Arabic and English and Bruce was sure not even Alfred would make a comment about the type of language the boy was using.

Bruce would have preferred if Jason was having a reaction like either of his brothers, but he wasn’t and it scared Bruce. Bruce knew Jason was unstable, how he could easily give into his emotions. It was unnerving to watch him simply stare down at Tim’s body and to see silent tests go down his cheeks.  


It hadn’t been more than thirty seconds since the bullet had ripped through Tim’s heart, but it felt like a life time.  


A simple family outing turned into an assassination. Bruce’s eyes flickered from staying at the still form in front of him to where the trajectory suggested the sniper had been.  


“You better pick a God and pray.” The words were barely whispered, probably could not be heard over Damian’s screaming, but Bruce had given his warning. Bruce would not only tear down whoever had done this, but he would not stop any of his sons out his daughter from getting their revenge.

****

"N-no... anything b-but that... p-please..." 

Jason had seen some fucked up things in his life, but what was going on behind the door to his left topped the list. He had only looked in once, three days ago, and that was all he had needed to see.

Hearing the echoes of the screams and cries was enough to send his stomach curling. 

“N-no..anything b-but that...p-please..” 

Jason closed his eyes as Damian began to scream again, after his whimpered plea. It cut off abruptly and Jason cringed. 

The door swung open and Tim stepped out, wiping his feet on the doormat he kept at the entrance. Heaven forbid he track in blood from his torture room. Tim took a few short steps to the couch and stretched himself out on it, laying his head in Jason's lap. Jason automatically moved his fingers to Tim's hair, petting at it lightly. 

Dull pale eyes that haunted Jason's dreams stared up at him, blinking. Tim reached up and his fingers danced over the leather collar that was locked around Jason's neck. The corners of his lips twitched, almost looking like a ghost of a smile. Jason knew he must have been seeing things. Tim didn't smile anymore.

“Watch over me while I sleep?” Tim asked and Jason nodded. Tim turned slightly to press his face into Jason's stomach. Weeks ago, Jason would have tried to strangle the younger man in his sleep, but now, Jason just turned his eyes back to the news footage he was watching and pet at his Master.

****

“Are you drunk again?”

“Really?” Jason hissed, snatching the glass from Dick's hands. He sniffed it's contents, then glared down at the older man. “Are you drunk again?”

“No.” Dick denied. “Never got sober. Gimme back my drink.” He clumsily lunged at Jason, who easily stepped around him and poured the scotch onto fake potted plant someone had added to the room. Dick made a high pitched whine and Jason scowled. 

“Being hammered all the time isn't doing anything. Stop throwing a fucking tantrum and help me-”

“Jason?” Tim's soft voice broke Jason's rant and he turned to see the smaller man standing at the entrance to the medical area, clutching a large book to his Superman pajama covered chest. All of Jason's anger faded at the sight; Alfred must have trimmed and styled Tim's hair, as Jason could barely see the bandages wrapped around his head. “It's three o'clock.” 

Jason sighed, then ran a hand over his face before grabbing Dick by the arm and hauling him up. “Come one, Dickie, time to hit the showers.”

“Why does he..why does he get to stay? Tim, why do you get to stay?” Dick asked as Jason dragged him out of the room. “Why does he get to stay broken?” Tim winced at the question and Jason knocked Dick hard on the head and pushed him towards the showers. He watched as Dick stumbled away before turning back to Tim, trying to give him a hopeful smile. 

“Ignore him, Timmy. Go read to Bruce, I'll have your snacks ready for you when you are done, okay?” Tim nodded and rushed into the room to climb into the medical bed that held Bruce, opening up his large book to where he had left off. 

Jason prayed Damian and Cassandra returned from the Middle East soon with answers on how to fix this mess. The only reason he was sticking around was Alfred couldn't handle dealing with Bruce in a coma and Tim stuck in the mind frame of a four year old on top of a guilt ridden Dick. 

Jason could barely handle it.


	10. Prompt Fills 2.26

Orollyitstimdrake asked: Jaytim, ace jason? 

Jason watched his lover, eyes narrowing slightly at the way Tim’s form was hunched over his desk. The younger man hadn’t even bothered to change out of his tuxedo before diving straight into work.

He pushed out of his chair and made his way slowly to Tim. He smiled as the word ‘lover’ crossed his mind again. It was almost a joke between them; partner had a different context in their world, boyfriend seemed to childish, but lover fit, because they did love each other. They just didn’t have sex. Not really, maybe just a handful of times in their almost year together. The few times had been after near death experiences when they both needed to feel each other in every way, to make sure the other was still there.

Neither of them felt the urge. It was how they had first began to bond; they were attracted to each other but there had never been that desire to rip off clothes and go at it. Soft kisses were enough. It was hard for them to try to explain it to others, but they had always understood one another. They had no words for it, it was just how things worked between them.

“Babe,” Jason said in a near whisper, placing his hand on Tim’s shoulder, “Come on. Come to bed.”

“Can’t,” Tim mumbled, looking up to Jason with a small frown. “Mind won’t….” He left the words in the air and Jason gave a small nod of understanding. Tim’s insomnia had been rampant the past few nights, barely allowing him any sleep. But Jason could see the younger was nearing collapse even if his mind wouldn’t let him.

Jason tugged lightly on Tim’s shoulder. “Come on, I think I know a way to help you sleep…” He said with a hint of promise and smile. Tim tilted his head curiously and Jason leaned in to kiss his forehead. “I was reading that book Dick got us, the one about massages. It said orgasms help the body relax and can be used as a sleep aide. It looked like a simple enough technique.”

Tim considered before nodding and pushing out of his chair. “Stephanie said it helps her when she gets cramps, then she gets tired after. It’s worth a shot I guess. I can do it myself, though. You don’t…”

“It’s not…” Jason hummed, running his hands over Tim’s sides. “It’s like giving you a back massage, Tim, it’s helping you relax. Only if you’re comfortable.”

Tim leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. “A few hours would be nice…”

“Then it’s settled. Come on. Let’s get you naked and in bed.” Tim snorted at the slight amusement in Jason’s voice.

“First time our bed’s heard that..”

“Oh come on,” Jason said, starting to lead Tim back to the bedroom. “Remember when you got stabbed? I stripped you and tossed you into bed.”

“So you could do emergency surgery on me.”

“It counts.” Jason hummed, causing them to both dissolve into laughter.


End file.
